


You Look... Nice

by Koolwolfpup



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Bloodhound's Face (Apex Legends), Falling In Love, One Shot, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22623103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koolwolfpup/pseuds/Koolwolfpup
Summary: They reach up slowly and freeze when their fingers brush across soft skin mixed with patches of rough scarring. Oh, oh no. Panic fills them. How could they have been so careless? No one has seen their face for years and now Mirage, Elliot Witt, the most talkative, least trustworthy to keep a secret legend has seen them. They're doomed.I found a post on Tumblr asking for this and couldn't write anything else for my many other series till I wrote this because I have zero self control
Relationships: Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt
Comments: 9
Kudos: 120





	You Look... Nice

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing anything for Apex, I hope you enjoy these idiots being almost in love.

Bloodhound awakens at three am, mouth dry, far too delirious to think straight. Perhaps they should've stayed in the infirmary a little longer than they did after that last match. All they know is they want water one moment and the next they are shuffling down the hallway to the mess hall with a long sleeve shirt hanging loosely off their frame. They have a kitchen in their apartment, but they're tired and their brain doesn't quite connect the dots before they sleepily push through the big double doors. Their brain also doesn't quite register the man sitting at one of the many tables eating cereal.

  


They pause and stare at him for a few seconds confusion filling their entire being. Their brain finally makes the connection.

  


"Witt?" They cock their head to the side. "What are you doing eating cereal at 3am in the mess hall?" 

  


The man in question jumps slightly. Then blinks, putting his spoon down.

  


"I could ask you the same question Bloodhound. Well I mean, not the cereal part becau…se" He trails off when he looks up, mouth dropping open slightly, eyes wide. 

  


"I'm thirsty." They answer simply, beginning to turn to get what they are here for, but his expression stops them. They tilt their head in his direction. "What?"

  


"You- Your y-y-you don't ha-hacv- ma-m-face!. I can see your face." They watch the trickster's face alight in a dark crimson. Then he looks back down at his cereal, away from them.

  


_ What? _

  


What is he talking about? He can't see their face they have their mask on. 

  


Don't they?

  


They reach up slowly and freeze when their fingers brush across soft skin mixed with patches of rough scarring. Oh, oh no. Panic fills them. How could they have been so careless? No one has seen their face for years and now Mirage, Elliot Witt, the most talkative, least trustworthy to keep a secret legend has seen them. They're  _ doomed. _

  


"I uh." Witt stands with a screech of his chair.

  


They tense, feeling their instincts kick in, ready to fight or flee.

  


"Woah, hey calm down Hound!" He raises his hands up in surrender and they relax, if only a little. "I just, look, I can see you're freaking out and-" He slowly reaches down into his pocket and they watch him, ready to pounce if he pulls out a camera. "I thought maybe you might want to use this." He does not pull out a camera. No, he pulls out a scarf then holds it out to them. "I still had it on me.. y-you know, after the match today, forgot to put it back…"

  


They stare at it, surprised, confused. Then they snatch it from him, lightning quick, wrapping it around their face. They sigh in relief once it's secured, feeling some of their initial anxiety at being exposed melt away.

  


"Is that a little better?" Witt asks worriedly, looking at them with concerned eyes. They start at him suddenly and snarl, backing him up against a nearby wall, knife pressed to his neck. The trickster's eyes widen a fraction and his hands are back up, trying to placate the beast in front of him. "H-hey woah there it was just a qu-"

  


"Don't speak of this to anyone Mirage, or I'll-"

  


"Kill me? Y-yeah I think I got that.. I won't tell anyone, I promise, my lips are sealed. You don't have to threaten me, I can keep a secret."

  


They scoff, pulling their knife away, still keeping him pressed to the wall. 

  


"I've seen how you've kept secrets in the past. I doubt it."

  


"Those were- it was- this is different." He stutters out looking at them then away, cheeks red. "I might not be able to keep stuff like a surprise party secret, but personal secrets.. its just not right to tell people. I-I mean, I don't know why you feel the need to hide your face you look…" His eyes dart to their's again, face impossibly getting redder before he looks away. "Very nice… b-but I would never… no.." 

  


They let out a soft sigh that sounds more like a growl, releasing Witt from the wall. Then they turn their head away slightly, trying not to think about the light heat that comes to their cheeks when they hear his rather awkward compliment.

  


"I have my reasons..." They say. They lift their gaze back to his, hoping he catches the glint of seriousness within it. "I'll trust you this time, but I will give you no- how is it said? Second.. Second chances. Ja, no second chances. Got it?" 

  


"Got it." Witt gives them a little nod.

  


"Good." They nod in return and turn towards the mess hall doors, quest for water forgotten, instead itching to retreat to the safety of their apartment. They stop right before walking into the hallway outside and look back at him. "I am going back to bed. You should do the same, there is a match tomorrow."

  


"I uh yeah, I will, just gonna finish my cereal." He smiles. "Goodnight Bloodhound."

  


"Goodnight Mirage…. Thank you for the scarf." They take their leave, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway as the doors swing shut behind them.

  


"Yeah, no problem…" Elliott stares at the place they were just standing for a few seconds. He just saw Bloodhound's face. Correction, he just saw Bloodhound's face, and they're  _ hot. _ And they threatened him with a knife but his brain's too stuck on their icey blue eyes and blazing auburn hair. Too stuck on their creamy skin etched with a multitude of freckles and spiderwebs of scars. He's had his eyes on them since he first saw them in the games. Though he hasn't always been crushing on them hard until now. Which yeah, now he has to admit that it  _ is  _ a crush.

  


At first he watched them, admiring their ability and fearing their wrath. Then, once they'd taken him out a few times, encouraging him in soft words as they slid a knife between his ribs, he realized they aren't as ruthless as the rumors say. Scary yes, but cruel, no. His fascination with them only heightened from there. The way they fight with the confidence that they'll win but not the arrogance that normally comes along with it. Their absolute dedication to their gods and their squadmates. How they can track people down with barely any sign of them moving through the area, almost as if they are an _actual_ bloodhound. Their gentleness with their downed squadmates as they pick them back up. He's been one of those downed squadmates a few times and is a bit embarrassed to say he may have gotten downed on purpose once… or maybe twice….. or more than twice, but who's counting?

  


Oh hell.

  


Elliott rubs his face with his hand. When had he let this innocent admiration spiral so badly into something he can barely contain? He goes back to his seat and stares at his cereal trying to get himself to finish it. Thoughts of them still give him pause, making his heart flutter frantically in his chest. He picks up his spoon and raises it to his mouth, then lowers it again when the gravity of everything finally hits. He's going to have to fight with or against Bloodhound tomorrow knowing what's under their mask. Seeing their face every time he looks at them. He groans. He's not going to survive tomorrow, especially if they are on his squad.

  


He raises a hand and rubs his neck where they had pressed their knife. No one will know why he's so distracted, that's for sure. Though no one really needs to know and really it's not something he would ever wish to share, life threatened or not.

  


He doesn't realize that he has fallen asleep until a clap startles him out of his cereal the next morning. He reels back, pulling his face from the bowl and falling backwards onto his tail end, causing fits of laughter to pour from a very amused Wraith. He looks around in a daze, not quite sure if the night's happenings were some strange three am illusion due to sleep deprivation and bad milk or real. Not until his eyes catch the hollow gaze of Bloodhound's mask. They stare at him from a shadowed corner of the mess hall arms crossed, leaning against a wall. When they catch his gaze, they tense and look away in a very non-Bloodhound like fashion. Elliott sees a flash of their face in his mind and shivers. 

  
  



End file.
